


thank you and also sorry and also please have sex with me

by paxatonic



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Enemies to Lovers, Fighting, Fix-It, Fluff and Angst, Hospitalization, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-29
Updated: 2017-05-29
Packaged: 2018-11-06 05:42:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11029824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/paxatonic/pseuds/paxatonic
Summary: Basically: Pietro is kept alive after Sokovia and Clint is a wreck.





	thank you and also sorry and also please have sex with me

A hospital this quiet would always give Steve goosebumps. He briefly remembers visiting war hospitals on his tours as Captain America in WWII, each man dead or mourning. Only a few screams would break the silence, and although they were taken away from the rest of the men, shivers still ran up your spine. He swallowed the lump in his throat and turned to face Tony, who was returning with two cups of coffee.

“You didn’t get one for Clint?” Steve raised an eyebrow as he took one cup and took a sip from it.

“You think he would have taken it?” Tony sighed. They both turned and peered through the glass at the two men in the room, one laying eerily still in the hospital bed hooked up to countless machines, the other scrunched up in a nearby chair, knees pulled to his chest tightly as he stared off.

Neither was a pretty sight.

“He needs to get out of that room; when’s the last time he saw the sun?” Steve frowned.

“He’s grieving. Sure, the kid’s not dead, but he might as well be; just look at him. Clint feels responsible for putting him in that bed. I don’t know if anyone could stop him from tearing himself apart for a bit.” Tony paused. “Some of us aren’t that proactive after disaster.”

Steve frowned and slid his hand into Tony’s and squeezed. “Still. Everyone needs someone in times like these. I mean, after laura and all…”

“I’ll call Nat and tell her to get her ass back here, see if she can get him to sleep in his own bed for a few nights. I can’t believe she’s on missions so soon.” Tony averted his eyes.

“That’s proactive, for some of us.” Steve paused, then turned away from the window, pulling Tony down the hall. “Come on. Let’s go home.”

 

-

 

The time that Pietro spent in the ICU was the longest of Clint’s life. He lived off of shitty hospital food, made friends with the nurses, was becoming a regular part of the hospital. Eventually Nat got back from some mission in Chechnya and dragged him back to SHIELD, where he took a proper shower and had a decent meal. It was refreshing to have someone who didn’t ask him how he was doing or what he was feeling, although he could tell she was ready to talk if he needed to. And yeah, he probably should have, since he was absolutely not fine but he was also absolutely not ready to talk about why.

Most of the team only visited here and there for five or ten minutes at a time, and most of them were there to check on Clint just as much as they were there to see Pietro. Wanda usually stayed for longer, and he was glad he wasn’t the only one who gave a damn. The first couple of days she was glued to Pietro’s side just as much as Clint was, and not just because it was her powers that had kept him alive in the beginning.

_ “I wish I could fix him, too.” _ He had said one night when she was sitting next to Pietro’s bed, hands twitching as she itched to do something, help him somehow. Wanda had been confused about why Clint was there at the start, and uncertain as to whether she should allow him to stay, but after that she seemed to understand. They didn’t share the same pain, but it was similar.

Nowadays she spent more time away, and didn’t spend any nights there at all. She seemed comforted by Clint’s presence, knowing there was someone there who cared about her brother watching over him.

When Pietro fought the intubation, it was the scariest moment of Clint’s life. He yelled for a nurse and stood in a corner shaking as people held him down and helped the tube out of his throat. One of the nurses, once she had her hands free, led Clint out of the room and he barely fought her.

“It’s a good sign, Clint.” She rested a hand on his arm. “He fought the intubation- he can breath on his own again, and he’s waking up.”

“He’s- what?” Clint’s mouth hung open slightly.

The nurse smiled and leaned back to look in the room, where doctors were just arriving. She nodded, “it looks like he’s waking up. Once the doctors are done-” she turned back, but Clint was nowhere to be found. No one would be able to find him for a long time.

 

-

 

Pietro was moved into a regular hospital room, and then into a room in Stark tower with special doctors coming in every other day and an assistant to get him everything he could want or need. He was comfortable, and bored as hell. It was excruciating settling for daytime television when all he wanted to do was run- walk, even, but Wanda made it very clear that if he disobeyed the doctors she would reverse what she had done for him, and he was only 50% sure she was kidding.

He got visitors in the beginning, some bearing meaningless gifts and gentle hugs- he hated being treated like he was made out of glass. Although, maybe he really was that fragile. Natasha came while Wanda was around and brought game consoles and all of their favorite games.

“You’re a saint,” Pietro sighed happily, laying his head back against the pillow.

“Figured you were bored out of your mind. To pass the time before you can run around and piss us off again.” She held the boxes up and looked around. “Where’s Clint?”

“Barton?” He furrowed his brow. “He hasn’t been to see me since I woke up.”

Nat narrowed her eyes and looked to Wanda, who was avoiding eye contact. Then Nat shrugged and started setting up the systems under the television. There was a strange tense feeling left in the room however, leaving Pietro to think that there was something they weren’t telling him.

 

-

 

Stretching his arms above his head Pietro let out a long sigh, barely containing his grin. He twisted around both ways so that his back cracked and then leaned forward, touching his toes.

“Remember to take it easy, alright?” Tony was saying, besides Pietro on the track. “It took a lot of time and money to get those organs healed up- we don’t want them going to mush just like that. You hear me? Go slow-”

As soon as Pietro was ready he sped off as fast as he could, a disappointing speed for him but one impossible to follow with the human eye. Still, he was ecstatic to be back running, letting out a happy cry as he looped around the field a few times and then ran out of the room, through the headquarters of SHIELD up every floor to the roof, looking out at the city. He panted, grinning at the skyline.

“I see you’re back on your feet,” a voice sighed from behind him. He turned and found the one and only Clint Barton, crouching up higher on the roof. “ Shame, it was starting to get so peaceful.”

“Looks like I’ve found mama bird’s nest.” Pietro smirked. “This where you been hiding?”

“I’ve been… around.” Clint takes a look around at the city, leaning back. “The world.”

“Work?”

“You could call it that.” Clint shrugged and they fell into a silence. 

Turning back around, Pietro basked in the descending sun and fresh air. “Man, it’s good to be outside again.” He sighed and saluted Clint once more before running back through the building.

 

-

 

“You should go talk to him,” Natasha shaid in between bites of chinese food. She was currently sitting on one end of the couch, legs sprawled over Clint’s lap casually but also essentially trapping him to the spot. “If not one of us, talk to him.”

“Wow, how rude. I bring food from your favorite chinese joint,  _ and  _ our favorite movie, and this is the thanks that I get? Rude.”

“Your favorite movie, actually, but you seem to think that we are the same person. I do appreciate the food, though.” She reached over to the coffee table to snatch a dumpling and pop the whole thing in her mouth. There was a brief silence as they both chewed, Clint’s eyes fixed on the screen and Nat’s on him.

“You can stop starin’ all of my deepest darkest secrets outta me. I’m fine.” He rolled his eyes.

“See, you seem to think that I don’t know you, but I do. In fact, I know you better than most people.” She pulled her legs back and sat cross-legged. “Something kept you in that room all that time- and it’s the same thing that’s pushing you away now.” She sat back and continued digging around in her food. “Just don’t be a jackass and ignore it. It’s not fair to either of you.”

Clint sighed. Why does she always have to be right?

 

-

 

All of the doctors keep telling him he’s lucky, that if it weren’t for his powers he wouldn’t have recovered this quickly, if at all. He hadn’t even doubted that he may not get back to full capacity after the incident, and apparently no one had thought to tell him it was on the table. Pietro thanks his sister, and secretly a god he’d long given up on, that he’s back to normal. Well, as normal as you can be after being practically brought back from the dead.

He reasons that they’ve been through worse.

Among the amazement of the doctors and specialists and those he tentatively calls friends, was caution. They all said to take it easy, maybe take a while off, even take a vacation. It was just a way to keep him away from training too hard, but he couldn’t stand being house ridden while his sister was out being an avenger.

_ “We’re just training,”  _ she would say.  _ “You’re in the gym more than me, I can tell you that.” _

It was true. Nights like these, when he would get restless, he would come down and run laps, or practice on a punching bag what he wish he could’ve done to Ultron. He would go until some part of him burned, and a little more, which he knows very well is dumb. If he gets hurt it’ll only prolong his recovery; but when has he ever been one to  _ not _ take risks?

The only noise in the room is the thumping of his fists against the punching bag, the sound bouncing off of the far walls and coming back fainter, and his own ragged breathing. He lost track of time a long time ago, but considering the sun hasn’t come up, he figures he hasn’t been down here  _ that  _ long.

“Couldn’t sleep?” a voice breaks steady rhythm he’d been building and he misjudges a punch, hand scraping against the side and sending him falling onto the bag for support. He looks around and finds Clint in the doorway.

“Too much energy built up sitting around all day.” He steps back and gets back into place, continuing to throw punches, this time mixing in kicks and different techniques, likely showing off as much as he could, drained as he was.

“I can imagine.” Clint nods and walks in, coming to a stand a few feet away.

“You come to talk about somethin’, or do you want a rematch, old man?” Pietro smirks.

Clint rolls his eyes but he’s smiling. “Nah, I don’t fight cripples.”

“Hey!” Pietro stops and looks at Clint. “I’m almost all better. And I could kick your ass in my sleep. Unless you just don’t wanna get beat again?” He gestures towards the boxing ring in the center of the room.

Clint lowers his eyes, now frowning. “No, not today.”

Pietro tilts his head and starts unwrapping his hands, deciding he’s done for the day. “So, what did you come for? Not another  _ welcome to team _ speech? Not sure if I can take that.”

“Not exactly.” Clint sighed and sat on a piece of equipment.

Pietro took a few gulps of water from his bottle and set his things down again, turning to Clint, who was sitting hunched over, one hand covering his face. Pietro got the sense that there was something wrong now as he came closer, “hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Clint’s voice cracked as he said it, sitting upright and taking a deep breath. In the dark it was difficult, but not impossible to spot the glint of tears barely restrained in his eyes. “I just… I just fucking hate you.” He sighed.

Well, that wasn’t what Pietro was expecting. “That’s it? I thought you were going to tell me you had cancer or something, I knew you hated me-”

“I didn’t, though.” Clint stood. “I get what you did and why you did it- and you ended up on our side, anyways, it’s just, why’d you have to be  _ so _ good? You  _ had _ to go and get yourself shot up in a way no one else could survived- do you know how fucking dumb that was?”

“You’re going to yell at me for saving your life?” Pietro countered, mirroring the anger in part.

“Yes, because it was at the cost of your own!” Clint was yelling now, which only made Pietro angrier. 

“Dying is always a risk. You should know better than anyone the risk you take even stepping foot on a battlefield. We risk our lives to save others- that’s the deal!”

“You’re just a kid- what would you know about it? You know how close you were to dying  _ every  _ step of the way? You can’t even begin to imagine how scary that was!” Clint pushed on Pietro’s chest lightly and he pushed back with full force, Clint grabbing onto his arms to hold them both up.

“And how would you know? I haven’t seen you visiting lately!” Pietro tore himself away, staggering back. Clint bit his lip to contain a counter and headed for the door. Pietro called after him, “and I’m not a kid!”

Clint didn’t say a word as he pushed through the doors and out of the gym.

 

-

 

Pietro was in hell.

Somewhere in his life he’d done something horrible- helping Ultron, perhaps, but he figured he’d made up for it with fighting back and almost dying in doing so- that had landed him in this terrible position. What is so bad, you wonder? Well, he wonders, too. It’s a feeling he can’t place or attribute to any one thing. He’s been pacing around his room for hours now, nothing on TV peaking his interest and no video game distracting enough. So there he goes; back and forth, back and forth.

There’s something he needs to do, or maybe have, that his body is aching for, but how in the hell can he do or get it if he doesn’t know what the hell it is?

Settling on top of this horrible feeling is a thin layer of regret. Well, it’s a fairly thick layer, that’s been weighing on top of his shoulders ever since he fought with Clint. All logic in him says that he shouldn’t regret it at all. It had been Clint’s fault they were fighting, and he had stupid reasons for being mad in the first place- I mean, who did he think he was? However a very less logical side of Pietro still felt bad about the whole thing. The encounter kept running through his mind- the look on Clint’s face when he looked up, the way it changed when he started yelling, the vein in his neck, the curve of his jaw-

Ok. No. That was a bad road to be on. He shook his head as if it’d physically rid his head of gay thoughts and returned to walking. Back and forth, back and forth.

The door to his own personal coffin swung open and Wanda appeared, holding up a bag full of junk food. “Hey, I figured since you burn so many calories you could use something bad instead of Stark’s shit.”

“Tell me about it.” he rolled his eyes and grinned. He’d been living mostly off of this special food full of stuff his body needed- Tony didn’t actually make it himself, some nutritionist he hired, but it was nice to have smaller reasons to hate the man now that they’d made amends. He dived onto the bed and Wanda sat down softly next to him, dumping out the food on the bed. As he tore into it, she started flipping through channels on the tv.

“Have you heard from Clint Barton recently?” she asked aimlessly.

He tensed up. “How recently?”

She looked at her brother, who was shrinking in on himself and stuffing his face so he didn’t have to speak. “You saw him. What did you do?” She hit his shoulder.

“What do you mean  _ what did I do _ ?” He mumbled with his mouth full.

“He’s been about as insufferable as you lately, sulking all around the building. So yes. what did you do?”

“Why do you assume it was me?” He grumbled after swallowing.

“Because you’re in love.”

His head popped up and he gaped at her. She had returned to flipping through channels, as if what she said hadn’t been the most shocking and important thing he’d heard all  _ year _ . “What the hell are you talking about?”

“What, you haven’t noticed?” She scoffed. “When you’re not busy gazing into each other’s eyes? The amount of time you spend thinking of ways to piss him off just so you can think about him- and don’t get me started on the whole hospital thing. Some sort of Greek Tragedy.”

“What hospital thing?” He sat up, food forgotten.

“Clint didn’t leave the hospital until you woke up. He had to be dragged out to shower- he was a mess, honestly. He divorced his wife while he was there and didn’t even think about leaving. Have you not talked about that?”

“No.” He looked away. “No we haven’t.”

 

-

 

Clint scrubbed his hands across his face as he entered the kitchen. He’s been trained to be awake and alert in minutes when the situation called, but days like today he can barely remember his own name before he gets his coffee.

“You have bed-head.” A deep voice says from the living room. Clint smirked: he’d recognize that accent anywhere.

“Still look better than you.” He turned, taking a long drink of his coffee. Pietro was leaning against the back of the couch with his arms crossed, a small smile on his lips. Clint realizes in full force how much better he looks now than he did in the hospital. Clean, smooth, healthy: no tubes, no wires, nothing to fear. He was back.

Clint walked around and sat on the couch with a sigh, Pietro following around the other side to take a seat next to him. There were a few moment of silence before he spoke, “I heard about your wife.” Clint could feel the other man was looking at him as he waited for a response, but Clint only nodded. Pietro leaned back into the couch and their shoulders brushed. “Tell me about it.”

Clint sighed, sipping his coffee. It was too early for these kinds of conversations. “Laura… is a wonderful woman. I met her around the time I joined SHIELD. In the beginning, it was like being an army wife for her. I was away on missions, risking my life for the good of my country, but I’d always come home to the life we had, the life I always wanted. You know: wife, kids, some form of stability. But… things change. The world changed. I’m not just a SHIELD operative anymore, and it got harder on her and the kids, and me. You can’t just leave one life and be someone else in another. We… we were both different people than who we married. I’m always gonna love her, but it’ll never be the same.

“After Sokovia we had a long talk about what we wanted, what we needed, and agreed none of it involved being married to each other. That we’d be better apart.” He paused, looking at his coffee cup and setting it on the table. “No animosity, or anything. We’re not gonna be best friends or anything, but we’re good. I think it was the shortest divorce in history.”

“Do you still want it?” Pietro caught his attention. “Stability?”

He looked down. “I don’t know. Like I said, things change. I don’t think I could live this life and go home to a family. Not that I won’t see my kids, of course. It’s just… separate.” He shook his head. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I get it.” Pietro nodded. Clint looked up and they locked eyes for a few long moments before Pietro hooked a hand around the back of Clint’s neck and leaned in, kissing him, using the arm of the couch for support. Clint immediately kissed back, tangling a hand in Pietro’s hair and settling the other on his hip.

Pietro pulled away first, only an inch, smirking as he panted, “You didn’t see that coming, eh?”

“Shut up.” Clint smiled, bringing their foreheads together.

“I’m sorry about your wife,” Pietro said, tilting his head and adding, “Ex-Wife.” Then he settled into Clint’s lap, running his hands through the other man’s hair. “And I’m sorry about the other night, in the gym, and I’m sorry for almost dying.”

“No, don’t apologize, that was my fault-”

“If you don’t shut up I will have to kiss you again.” Pietro warned, cutting Clint off.

“You say that like it’s a punishment.” He smiled, pulling them closer.

Pietro chuckled. “I suppose it is not.” He paused. “Wanda told me about the hospital. I know that you feel responsible for what happened to me. You are not. But thank you for watching over me.” He leaned in and kissed the other man again.

“So,” Clint said when he pulled away, “this was just a thank you?”

“No.” Pietro shrugged. “I could have just gotten you a thank you card from CVS. I’d say this is more a… _ thank you and also sorry and also please have sex with me _ sort of thing.”

Clint chuckled. “I thought I was just an old man?”

“Mm, but you’re my old man.” Pietro laughed and leaned in again. This time while they were kissing Clint picked him up and laid him down on the couch, towering over him.

“Well it was a very adequate thank you, apology, and request. And yes, I will have sex with you.” As soon as Clint was done speaking Pietro had them in the bedroom and was already half naked. Propping himself up on his elbows he smirked, “I could get used to that.”


End file.
